It Had To Be You
by Flockie
Summary: Erik finally reveals to Christine who he is... but will she accept him for WHAT he is? Based more on the movie then the book. Mature content.
1. Prologue

**Author:** Emily "Flockie" Hall

**Title: **It Had To Be You…

**Date Started:** September 26th, 2007

**Genre:** Romance

**Rated:**M for Mature

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one.

**A/N:**Thoughts are in italic font.

**Summary:**This is my first POTO fic... so yeah. This is a story based roughly on the movie... but the movie hasn't taken place... and never will really in my story. I decided I wanted to make my own unique little diddy. I'm sure others have done it, but I wanted to do it MY way. Lol. I only hope that whomever reads this is pleased with it. Anyway, it takes place at the same time and I have the ages a little different. Erik is in his 20's... probably 26. Christine is four years younger, so she is 22. Meg is 21 and Raoul is 23. Madame Giry is 44, making her quite a bit older when she found Erik. I did this because I wanted Erik and Christine to be a bit closer in age, in order to relate to it more adequately... though there are many who did and still do marry at the most oddest of ages. Anyway, hope you enjoy and I will explain more as time goes on.

* * *

**Prologue**

He watched her from the other side of the mirror. There were simply no other words that came to his mind other than the one he had in mind for her: beautiful. She sat there on the ruby colored rug laying in the middle of her bedroom floor, playing with her hair like she was five again. This thought brought another to his mind. The first time he ever saw the beautiful woman in front of him. She was seven at the time he recalled. He at the mere age of eleven. He remembered it like it was yesterday it seemed.

She had just arrived that very day. Her father had just died and Madame Giry had taken her under her wing in order for her to become a ballet girl. He recalled how sad she had looked. Her eyes had been a deeper shade of brown that day, almost black it seemed, if it were at all possible. He also recalled her little hands twisting a handkerchief into two. So much anguish was etched into her features the day he had first laid his green eyes upon her. So much pain. He knew that pain. He had felt that same pain the day he was outcaste. He knew that one day they would share their most in depth secrets to one another... one day.

He snapped out of his daydream and continued to study the woman at hand. She was finally getting up and getting ready to go to bed. She pulled back her sheets to her most common bed and slipped in, snuffing out the candle as she did so. He sighed and tore himself away from the two-way mirror, slicking back his hair as he did so.

_She could never love someone who looks... like me. _He thought to himself as he made his way back down the spiral staircase, back to his domicile. Back to the darkness where he would seem to forever hide.

* * *

_Short, I know... but this is just the beginning, I promise. It's just an short introduction that I am somewhat not sure if I would like to use... or perhaps lengthen by adding some more detail... I must inform you I am crazy when it comes to detail with my art... but writing I am still new at. So allow me this one indulgence._


	2. Chapter 1: Too Close For Comfort

Chapter 1

**Too Close For Comfort**

Christine awoke from her dream with a start. Small droplets of sweat clung to her face like the morning due on a precious flower in the garden. She looked around. Daylight; it shone through her small window and straight into her chocolate colored eyes. She had had the most horrible dream. No time for that though. She groaned, not wanting to get out of her bed, but knowing that she must.

She flung her covers off of her and gingerly arose from the bed, making it right after of course. She performed her normal morning routines; she dressed, ate, stretched, then practiced her dance routine for the play that night alone on the stage when no one was around.

She was in the middle of going over the routine when she heard footsteps. She stopped and looked to her left where the noise had come from. It was her dearest friend, Meg. "Hello Christine. How are you this morning?" The blond haired beauty said in her normal friendly manor. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm just practicing for tomorrow evening. You know how nervous I still get." The blond smiled and nodded knowingly. "Yes... though I don't understand why. You're probably the best dancer out there, and yet still so modest." "I am my own critique I suppose." The pair shared a small laugh.

The two friends ended up doing the routine together and then sat down on the edge of the Opera Populaire's stage. Christine looked at Meg for a moment, unsure if she should say what she was thinking. "What is it?" Meg said with a small tilt of her head. The brunette sighed and looked down, butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. "I still hear the voice..." "The singing?" "Yes... I hear him and I don't know if it's real or if I'm dreaming. I still wake with a start, with that feeling that someone had watched me." Christine said, contorting her face slightly at the thought of another watching her in the shadows. "I'm sure it is just your imagination. It's not like anyone here has the voice that you described, nor the means of being able to watch you at night. You know my mother walks the halls to make sure everything is as it should be." The slightly younger girl said matter of factly.

Christine thought for a moment and let a sigh escape her rosy pink lips. "Yes... I suppose you're right." She said as she nodded. "Of course I am." The blue eyed girl said with a knowing smile. Christine couldn't help but smile back herself. After all, who WOULD be in the shadows watching her?

* * *

Christine walked into her room, so tired from the day's events. She let out a long, steady breath as she slipped off her shoes and undid her bun that was tightly wound on top of her head. This was her favorite part of the day. Being able to relax in her room, away from all of the noise of the opera house, away from the hustle and bustle of the others winding down from the play. 

She slowly undressed, taking off her most uncomfortable costume first, followed by her tights. She then grabbed her simple lacy, white nightgown and slipped it on. She walked in front of the mirror as she tied the delicate ribbon below her bust line into a neat bow. She then proceeded to observe herself in the mirror.

She contorted her face slightly, looking at her "flaws". _Why can't my lips be a bit smaller? They're so huge!... or rosier cheeks... oh how nice it would be to have a man's attention. _She thought, bringing a small smile to her face at the thought of the touch of a man.

Christine sat on the edge of her bed and crossed her legs so that her foot was resting on the other knee. She proceeded to rub her tiny, sore feet. "If I didn't love to dance so much I would indeed never wear ballet shoes again." She said as she furrowed her brows. _Ballet shoes are simply the worse invention in the world for women next to the corset._ She thought with a small furrow on her brow. As she rubbed her petite feet she began to sing.

_"... I'm off to the deepest depths to forfeit my place on this land. _

_The tide pulls you in to be as one, a drift in the sea. _

_The feeling is free and you'll find yourself drifting with me. _

_Don't hold your breath for long, _

_If the undertows getting to strong. _

_There's no reason for you to come along..."_

She opened her eyes, realizing that at the last part of the song she heard a voice chide in with her. She looked around, startled. Her small room held no place for anybody to hide, but she checked none the less.

Seeing no one, she assumed it was all in her head as Meg had said to her earlier that day. Her chest seemed to be heaving despite herself. Her heart nearly skipping a beat as she tried to calm her nerves.

"Come now Christine... there is no one there... just go to bed and forget all about it." She tried to condole herself, but it almost seemed useless. She climbed into bed, willing herself to forget; to sleep.

* * *

_How stupid of me!_ He knew better from the last time he tried to sing with her. It frightened her so much... and in her bewildered state it caused him to feel ashamed and saddened himself. But how could he help himself! Fifteen years of hiding in the shadows. Fifteen years of singing and teaching her to do so in her sleep, attempting to make some kind of contact with her, but never knowing how nor having the guts to do so. She maddened him to the bitter end! His long, delicate fingers wanted nothing more then to feel the warmth of her skin; the softness of her curly brown locks seeping through his fingers; the feel of her breath against his neck... her lips pressed against his... 

Well... that day was going to be now.

He slid the mirror to one side as gently and softly as he could manage. Stepping inside the dark room without so much as a sound coming from him, he tip-toed over to the sleeping beauty in her bed, resting peacefully.

Her beauty astonished him. Her curly brown hair seemed to surround her face in a halo. Her chest rose... then fell in an almost hypnotic rhythm. Her right hand lay across her stomach. Her left neatly below it across her lower waste. Her mouth was slightly slack as she breathed in her sleep. Oh and how he wanted to be curled up beside her, his beloved Christine. By her side in a bed they shared. By her side with his arms circled around her. He wanted it more than anything that it made his heart ache.

He had never been this close to her except for when she was on the other side of the mirror, not knowing that he even existed. For fifteen years he stood on the other side of the mirror... in the shadows where no one could see. This was his chance.

He reached out to touch her cheek. Only touch it. That is all he wanted. He just wanted to feel the warmth; the warmth that could melt his icy heart.

He pulled back. He shook himself of the cobwebs he had allowed. He turned away from the sleeping form of the one woman that he loved and walked back through the mirror, looking back only once before shutting it behind him.

* * *

A/N: The song that Christine is Singing is by CKY. I do not claim owning it. Anyway, I thought I better post the first chapter. I won't be posting again until I get some feedback. It only seems logical. I want to know if people like it or not so I can fix anything in my other chapters. I do hope you all like! Thanks for reading. 

Emi


	3. Chapter 2: A Ghost's Recall

**Chapter 2**

**A Ghost's Recall**

Erik sat there in his enormous, throne-like chair. He traced the different patterns in it with his finger and sat there, perplexed. _How can I win her over? _He thought, tapping his temple with his finger with his other hand. _How could such a wonderful creature love such a horrendous looking one as I?_ His green eyes scanned the room, looking for an answer in the back of his mind. He sighed when he could think of nothing and slumped into his chair with a huff of frustration and sadness.

After a moment, he rose to his feet and strode over to his organ. He stared at it for a brief moment, allowing his fingers to brush the keys of it lightly and then erecting a note from it. He finally allowed himself to sit at the grand instrument and allow his soul to pour out of him the only way he seemed to know how: Through his music.

_How could someone like me ever be able to even approach her? She'd never look at me with loving eyes. But oh how I would love her to take away my pain. There must be a way._ He thought as he continued to tap away at the keys.

* * *

The very few candles that were left were flickering slightly, about to go out themselves. Erik was at his desk now, writing. Crumpled up sheets of paper lay in various positions around the room, soon to be joined by yet another. 

He growled in frustration and discarded the paper he was scrawling on. Erik then rose from his chair and paced, his hands clasped together behind his back as he did so. _Why can't I think? Is my mind so enthralled by her that it can't even concentrate on something else for five minutes! _He let out yet another shaky breath. He recalled the first time he had almost been caught by his angel.

* * *

Christine was playing hide-and-go-seek with Meg and some of the other young girls around the Opera house. She had wandered away from the rest, hiding in what she presumed to be one of the darkest and best hiding places she could ever hope to find. 

After what seemed to be forever, Christine came out of her hiding place and looked around. She couldn't't remember exactly which way she had come from! She looked this way and that and walked on for some time. She then heard something... footsteps? She listened hard and tried to figure out which way they had come from. She ran towards them and then found herself turning a dark corner and bumping into someone! She fell with a thud, as did the other she ran into. She looked up to find the person crawling away into an even darker corner.

"Please wait!" The older boy stopped and looked at her through the darkness. She tried to peer at him, but couldn't get a good look. "I seem to have lost my way monsieur. Do you think you could tell me how to get back to my friends?" The boy looked at her, obviously dumbfounded, but pointed to her left. "That way then?" She asked, trying to coax at least one word out of him. There was silence for a moment. "Oui." It was a simple answer, and probably the only words she would hear from him, but she tried nonetheless. "What is your name?"

She was interrupted when she heard someone calling her name, obviously searching for her. Her head turned at the sound and then back again only to see that the boy had disappeared. She sat there for a moment, confused, looking into the now black obis where the boy was only a few moments ago. Her friend, Meg, touching her on her shoulder, once again, interrupted her thoughts. "There you are Christine. Everyone has been looking for you! You had a most excellent hiding place indeed!" Christine was silent for a moment before looking up at her dear friend and smiling. "Oui... I suppose I did." With that being said, Christine got up and walked with her friend down the corridor back to the others. She turned back once, only for an instant, meeting eyes with him without knowing.

* * *

Erik smiled at the thought for a moment. He HAD had some contact with her, brief as it was, in these past fifteen years. And she didn't stray from him then, did she? "Ah, but she did not see your face then." The voice in his head chimed nonchalantly. He sighed. _She hadn't, had she? _There seemed to be no hope. There was always something that was keeping him from her, and she from him. But wasn't there some event coming up? One that could allow him to see her, to talk with her, without anyone ever finding out who he was? "The Masquerade!'" He said, hope dripping from his voice as he said it aloud. He had heard the ballet rats going on and on about it for weeks! This would be his chance.

* * *

Sigh Bit disappointed I haven't had any reviews, but I do see that people have been reading it AND one person already faved it, so I guess I'm a bit grateful for that. Next chapter will be up soon too. I have a ton already done, but I'm reviewing and also doing a bunch of college stuff, so bare with me, please? 


	4. Chapter 3: Hope

**A/N: **Thank you SO much for the reviews. A special thanks to Paola A. What ya said made me extremely happy and you're definitely right. Here is the next chapter.. I'm not sure I'm totally happy with this one…

**Chapter 3**

**Hope**

"So what will you be wearing Christine?" Christine looked at her overenthusiastic friend as she stretched. She thought about the question for a moment before answering. "I'm not quite sure. I hadn't really put much thought into it to be honest." "Really?! Mon dieu! I have been thinking of nothing else!" The blond said with a smile. Her brunette friend couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure of that. But I just... hadn't really thought about it. I suppose I just wasn't going to be going."

He listened, his hopes crushed within seconds. _Not going?_ His green eyes started to glisten with fresh tears as he looked on from his hiding place above in the rafters, clenching the rope in his hands as he did so.

"Oh but Christine you must!" The blond said urgently. _Yes Christine, you must!_ He thought, looking at the blond friend with great hope. "Everyone will be there and I can't bare the thought of going without you! It would be great fun! Who knows, perhaps you will meet somebody." Meg said mischievously to Christine, who blushed at the thought. _Yes, blush my dear, for if you do go, you SHALL be meeting somebody. I promise you that._

"Well then... I suppose I can't let you down. But I only do this because I am your friend... not because I am looking for a suitor." "Of course Christine!" Meg giggled and Christine couldn't help but do so herself as she reached for her toes, limbering up some more.

"Well then.. I guess you will have to help me look for something to wear?" The blond shrieked with happiness. "Oh yes! I will indeed do so mon ami! You will be the envy of all of Paris when I get done with you!" _Oh dear... what have I gotten myself into?_ The brown-eyed girl thought to herself as she, her friend, and the rest of the girls began their practice.

Erik sat and watched, as he usually did and thought to himself. _I will have to make sure I thank the little Giry girl one day if all goes to plan... _

He sat for only a while longer before departing, going back down to his chambers in order to prepare. The Masquerade was only a few days away and he had yet to finish his preparations.

Meg and Christine were talking in the store they were at in the city of Paris. Meg's mother, Marie Giry, had given them some money, not saying where she had received such a hefty sum, and told them to go and buy themselves something appropriate for the occasion coming up.

"Mon dieu! Look at this dress Christine! It would look simply radiant on you!" Meg picked up the skirt of the dress and ran it through her fingers as her friend walked over towards her. One look at it took Christine's breath away. It was a gorgeous dress of white in color. Lace trimmed the bottom and the sleeves that were hardly there. The bodice was adorned with pearls and lace as well. "Oh my..." Christine managed to breath out as she ran her fingers along it. "It is simply astounding Meg... but.." "No buts' Christine. It would look amazing on you! Simply amazing! Oh, and look!" Meg walked over to another counter and lifted up a precious looking white mask. "This would go with it perfectly!" Christine looked and her heart melted. It was a simple enough mask, small diamonds adorning it. _Meg is right; it would go perfectly with the dress... but the cost!_ "Meg, I don't think we could afford all this, and your outfit that you have picked out." "Of course we can! Mother gave me quite enough money for all of this." "But where did your mother get this money? It worries me that we spend her savings on something as trivial as a few dresses and accessories for some silly ball." Christine seemed torn in two as she spoke. Meg looked at her with a small smile. "That is just it! I said the same thing to my mother when she gave me all of this money, but she assured me it was a gift and to spend it as we pleased." Christine seemed a bit more reassured and with that they purchased what they had sought and were off to the Opera Populaire with huge grins upon their beautiful, young faces.

"She received your money monsieur." Madam Giry said to her long time friend. He looked up at his savior and smiled slightly. "Thank you Marie. You have no idea how much your friendship has meant to me." The man beside her said, scrawling on a piece of paper. "I expect to see you at the ball then?" This brought an even bigger smile to the man's face and his green eyes seemed to glisten with the happiness he felt. "Oui mademoiselle. You shall be expecting me. I have no doubt that you shall recognize me, but I implore you to please do as we discussed and nothing more." Madam Giry curtsied. "But of course. I shall see you then, Erik." With that, Erik gave her the letter he had been writing, after properly enclosing it into an envelope and sealing it with his trademark red skull. They shared a small smile and Madam Giry left in search of her daughter, Meg, and Christine.

Erik watched as his friend left and he sighed. "Soon my love... soon."

Christine was sitting in her room, thinking about what her friend had said. _A suitor? I will probably get stuck with some young fop._ She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. "Entre." Madame Giry walked in with a smile and sat on the bed next to her, handing over a letter. "This is for you my dear. I received it earlier and almost forgot to give it to you." Christine looked at her and began to open the letter as the older, mother-like women left her domicile.

She quirked her brow and then proceeded to read the letter.

_Le plus cher,_

_Nothing could possibly show how excited I am to _

_be in your presence at the Masquerade. I am awaiting your company and cannot wait to be blessed with your presence. I can only hope you are as excited to be there as I am. Keep a weathered eye out for me. I'm sure you won't miss me._

_Sincerely yours_

She re-read the letter again and again. _A secret admirer… But who? _ She racked her brain for the slight implication as to who it could be.

She set the letter on her bedside table after coming to the conclusion that she could think of no one and snuffed out her candle, proceeding to go to sleep.

_I know this is all sappy and cutsie-wootsie, but that is what I intended; FLUFF! I promise though, some darker sides will show themselves later on, but this is just what has been pouring out of me thus far. I can't help it! You know you like it though. I know I always wanted to see Erik portrayed this way. In the movie it does such for quite some time if you haven't noticed. I'm just bringing it out tenfold. So please, read on and review._


	5. Chapter 4: Angels DO Exist

**Chapter 4**

**Angels DO Exist**

Christine and Meg entered the ballroom together, smiles radiantly showing on their faces. Meg was wearing a white dress, making her look the innocent angel that she portrayed with her costume. Christine was in an even more radiant white dress then her friend. Her hair was cascading down her back, showing off her bountiful curls. Her mask was accentuating her rosy lips, making them look all the more inviting. She was fabulous!

The pair talked amongst some other young patrons, but Christine's thoughts were elsewhere it seemed. She excused herself from the group, finding she was quite bored with the topic of conversation, and seated herself at a table near by, sighing as she did so and resting her hands on either side of her face in somewhat of a pout. _Where is this so called 'admirer'? _Her question to herself was answered as she saw someone standing at her side.

Christine looked up, finding her chocolate eyes meeting a pair of green ones. Her breath caught in her throat. She seemed speechless! "Mademoiselle." He said, presenting her with a single crimson rose tied with a black ribbon. She couldn't quit staring at him! His black hair was slicked back; a white mask across his face; red attire. His costume seemed to be that of Red Death. He looked... evil, yet... so handsome and enticing. The material seemed to hug his body in all of the right places, making her blush at her own thoughts. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed to be radiating from his eyes.

He looked at her curiously. She said nothing, only being able to stare at him in complete adoration. He started to feel a bit nervous. Could she see right through him? He spoke again, "Mademoiselle?" She snapped out of it, offering a small smile and a blush as she took the rose. "Pardon Moise monsieur. I was... startled." He smiled and bowed his head slightly at her. "Tis no problem at all beau." She found herself turning red once more at his words. He smiled. "May I have a seat?" She nodded slightly and he seated himself next to her, folding his hands in front of him on the table. She found herself fiddling with the ribbon on the rose. It then dawned on her. _Who is he? My admirer perhaps?_

"Pardon monsieur... but I did not catch your name." He hesitated, and then thought better of it. _I needn't lie to her._ "Erik. Erik Destler. And you are Christine Daae." He said grabbing her hand gently and planting a small, yet affectionate kiss upon her knuckles. She looked at him curiously. _It must be him!_ She thought, tilting her head at him.

He smiled at her then, an all-knowing smile. He then rose, still holding her hand gingerly. "Would mademoiselle care to partake in a dance?" She smiled up at him, allowing the rose to settle on the table as she arose from it. "I would love to kind sir."

The pair strolled out to the dance floor, Christine mesmerized by the man leading her. His smile seemed to melt her very soul, making it do flips-flops and causing butterflies to dance in her belly. One hand found its way to her hip and the other still held her hand as she laid her other hand on his arm. So soft his touch was! So gentle.

"So Monsieur Destler, I do not think I have seen you in the Opera Populaire before, have I?" She asked, quite curiously. "On the contrary Miss Daae, I come here quite often. I think your mind is elsewhere when you perform. There isn't much time to look about at your admirers while you dance, now is there?" She smirked and nodded. "No, I suppose not."

They were silent for a while, just looking at one another as they waltzed. Everyone seemed to be looking their way, especially her dearest friend, Meg, whom had busied herself talking to some young fop. Madam Giry had an eye on them as well, being sure nothing was to go wrong.

The dance ended and they found themselves back at the table they had previously been at. Erik could hardly contain himself. _Things are going so well! Just as planned._ He thought, bringing what seemed to be an endless smile to his face as he stared at her through his mask. She finally removed her own, setting it gently on the table next to the gift he had given her. The way she looked at him he knew that she expected him to do the same. His thoughts were confirmed by her next words: "Am I not allowed to see my apparent secret admirer's face?"

Erik looked down for a moment then back up at her. "Ah ah mademoiselle. Then I wouldn't be a SECRET admirer, now would I?" His quick reply even shocked him. Her frown that she adopted upon her face was not what he expected though. "No.. I suppose not." She said, looking down now.

_Now this won't do._ He gently grabbed her chin and lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. "Now now Miss Daae. Do not fret. As adorable as you are when you pout, I would much rather see you smile." This brought a small smile to her rosy lips, which in turn did the same to for him. "Come... join me on the veranda?" She nodded and rose with him, allowing her to escort her outside to the balcony.

Christine inhaled the cool night air. Erik watched her every move. Christine seemed to feel his eyes on her and turned slightly to address him. "Oui?" He shook his head, unable to stop staring at her. He felt bold all of the sudden, reaching out a hand to brush her cheek with the back of it. Her eyes gently closed, her lips slack as she inhaled slowly. He smelled so sweet, yet so manly. _Mon dieu! How beautiful she is._ "You put angels to shame Christine Daae. Angels." She blushed, leaning into his touch. "Monsieur..." "Erik... please call me Erik." He said gently, interrupting her. She smiled and looked at him. "Erik... you flatter me so. I feel I do not deserve such affection." "Ah, but you deserve the world ma petite. The world itself." "Such words you speak." She said, honey dripping from her tongue.

He couldn't help himself. He must touch her more! Feel her more! He stepped forward some, not wanting to scare her and fearing he would, but he had to chance it.

He rested his unoccupied hand on her hip, the other trailed down her cheek, her neck, stroking her arm as it too laid rest on the other side of her body on her hip. Her breath caught in her throat again. She looked at his hypnotizing green eyes. "Who are you?" "Je suis votre ange de la musique. The answer to your everlasting prayers."

Recognition danced in her now glazed over caramel eyes. My angel of music? _Father didn't lie. He has come to me?! _

She was shaking in his arms. He didn't go without noticing. He managed to part from her for an instant as he took off his cape and put it around her delicate shoulders, allowing it to encompass her delicate frame and hopefully warm her body.

He was beginning to feel nervous again when she didn't say anything. He was stroking her arms, warming them for her. She was just staring at him blankly... but he couldn't find any fear in her eyes. She then did something that shocked him. She reached up to his hidden face and stroked the flesh that was not hidden from her. "My angel of music? How I HAD been preying for you." She said, reaching to unveil his face. "NO!" He backed away suddenly, frightening her somewhat.

He looked back at her, guilt coming over his face for yelling at her in such a manor. He grabbed her hands, enveloping them in his and looked deep into her eyes once more. "Not this time ma petite...please bare with me?" She looked at him, and for some reason unbeknownst to her she nodded, fully trusting him.

There time together was interrupted by someone joining them on the veranda. Erik whirled his head around a bit annoyed, but his face softened a somewhat when he saw Meg and Marie Giry standing there. A stupid grin was plastered on Meg's face as she looked on.

"Christine, who is this handsome man?" Meg's excitement for her friend was evident in her voice. Christine blushed, knowing her friend would poke fun at her later for doing exactly what she said she wouldn't.

Madam Giry came to both of their rescue, "This is Monsieur Destler. He is a renowned architect and musician. Tis a pleasure monsieur." Madam Giry curtsied, followed by Meg. Christine looked at her angel questionably. Erik bowed to the other two ladies and smiled at Christine.

Christine was curious as to how Madam Giry knew who he was, but his name escaped her. "I just wanted to make sure the maestro's intentions were pure my dear. It was a pleasure to see you Monsieur.'" Madam Giry said, just as any mother looking after their daughter would. "But.." '"ome along Meg." The older woman said, pulling along her daughter without any more questions.

Christine's outlooks on this man were even more assured. _If the Madam knows him, he must be alight. _She thought with a smile yet again playing on her face. He couldn't help but smile himself. She had the most beautiful expressions, how could he not!?

He reached up to her face once more and brushed a stray lock of hair away from it. _Oh his scent is so powerful... I don't know how much more of this I can take._ She grabbed his hand softly with both of her own. Erik expected her to shove him away with disgust, perhaps a slap, but no… she just gently squeezed his hand with her own.

"Come and walk with me?" He asked, hope dancing in his eyes. She could see it. She offered a small smile and nodded. He dropped his hand from her cheek, eliciting a small frown on her otherwise adorable face. He noticed this and quickly offered his arm to her in exchange. She took it greedily as they walked back inside, collected her mask and rose, and walked away from the crowds.

Wow.. this chapter was a lot longer then I expected it to be... so I decided to break it up into two. I hope no one minds. **Giggles **

BTW, "Je suis votre ange de la musique." means I am your angel of music. Just in case you were wondering. I have been throwing in some French for the simple fact that I love the language. Hehe!


End file.
